


Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine

by scamvnder



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 13:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scamvnder/pseuds/scamvnder
Summary: A:N: something no one asked for, but I’ll be posting anyway because I’m in love with a cowboy and everyone needs to know it MAJOR SPOILERS for anyone who’s only getting around to playing it now like I have lmaoanyway, enjoy! send in requests if you’d like!





	Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine

He really shouldn’t let himself stare, but he does. 

Arthur considers himself to be a lot of things, but a good man isn’t one of them. Good men don’t make this kind of life for themselves; one full of thieving and misery. Maybe he’d feel better if you weren’t the way you are: sweet and kind, and more compassionate than someone who runs with a band of outlaws ought to be, but he doubts it. You’re under his skin, whether he likes it or not, and if he were anyone else, he’d look away and leave you to your peace. 

“You okay, Arthur?” He blinks and realizes you had looked up from the fire and caught him. Arthur shifts his gaze to the ground, then adjusts his weight, placing his hands on the buckle of his belt hoping to God that you won’t say anything. 

“I’m alright,” he drawls, waving off your concern. It makes his chest tighten in a way that should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t. He won’t consider himself special, though. Your gaze, just as unassuming and open as it is now, has been directed towards almost everyone in camp. There is no extra fondness in your voice, or concern in your features, no matter how deeply he wishes there was. He’d be an idiot and a fool to ever believe there was and ever will be a place in your heart for him. “It’s a nice night…” Arthur isn’t sure why he keeps talking. You don’t seem to mind, though, and it surprises him a little. The others only ever seem to want something from him, but not you: never you. That’s kind of the irony of it, he thinks. He’d do anything and everything for you and all you’d have to do was ask. 

“Quiet…peaceful. Hasn’t been like this in a long time…” 

You look at Arthur and see the exhaustion in his face. It’s an expression you’ve quietly observed before, but right now its more heartbreaking than its ever been. Saint Denis. Last stop before what? You’d never admit it to the group, but you’re tired of the constant running. Sean is dead. Jenny, Mac, and Davey are gone. You don’t like to think about what happened to Arthur. Jack had been kidnapped and so had Tilly, and with those damn bounty hunters bound to find you again its starting to make you wonder what the point of all this is exactly. Money? Freedom? The novelty of it is beginning to wear off, and Arthur seems just as dragged down by it too. 

He used to thrive on the chaos, of the chase; back when things were easy and the land was wild. The West is looking more and more like a pipe dream, and with things progressing the way they are, he’s having a hard time keeping up with it. He’s getting older, and his unwavering belief in Dutch is waning. It has since Blackwater, but its getting harder to ignore now. How many terrible things have to happen before Dutch makes the right decision? 

The two of you sit and don’t say anything for a long while. There’s a mutual understanding, of longing. “I’m in love with you.” Your voice, sweet as honey, floats through the quiet air and hits him like a ton of bricks. Arthur inhales sharply and looks at you like you’ve admitted your most deepest, darkest secret. He coughs a few times to clear his throat, then takes off his hat, trying to recover from the weight of your words. 

“You what?” Christ, don’t let this be like it was with Mary. He’s proved himself to be just as dull as everyone says he is time and time again when it came to her, but with you he knows that it’ll be different. All she ever ever did was take; demand that he change then be disappointed when he hadn’t. Even years after she was still askin’ things of him: save her brother, save her good for nothing, judgmental father. Those goddamn letters had been the worst and best things he could have received from her, but he ain’t as naive as he once was. You’d be good for him, if only he’d let himself have you. 

“You’re really gonna make me repeat it?” 

Arthur grins a little, but quickly hides it behind his hand as he scratches his beard. He had heard you perfectly the first time, just hadn’t believed you said it. You just huff at him, then roll your eyes, unable (or maybe unwilling) to hide your smile from him. The fire illuminates it and for the second time tonight his breath hitches. “I’m sweet on you, Arthur Morgan. And I’d appreciate it if you said something before I embarrass myself.” 

Arthur’s never been good with words. Its easier to just write his thoughts, but he reckons you wouldn’t appreciate it if he paused the conversation to work out how he feels in his journal. “Listen, I’m not…words aren’t…” he fumbles and all you can do is laugh. He’s about to retreat, get himself out of this situation before he digs a bigger hole for himself, but you’re getting up and approaching him and he finds that he can’t move even if he wanted to. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” You say and he knows that you mean it. He can feel your warmth and nearly closes his eyes, but before he can you’re leaning up and kissing his cheek so tenderly it makes his heart ache. 

“Good night, Arthur.” He watches as you head towards the house, thinking about how he could have just said what he had to say if he weren’t such a coward. Here he goes, he thinks, making a damn fool of himself again. 

He doesn’t mind it much, though, because he’d rather be a fool than alone.


End file.
